


A Victor's Snippet

by Rj_the_Writer



Series: Hunger Games Collection [2]
Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28686726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rj_the_Writer/pseuds/Rj_the_Writer
Summary: While "In Their Words" remains the most comprehensive third party resource for those wishing to learn about the long gone Hunger Games, this project, made by the victors, seeks to show the varied lives that those who "Won" the hunger games lived through.
Series: Hunger Games Collection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2102034
Kudos: 1





	1. Introduction

"You know, the films were great and all, but they didn't show the true story," a man said to his peers. He pushed his glasses up and made his way to the front of the group, blocking the massive screen with his rather broad shoulders. Always the dramatic type, he pulled out a notebook with a flourish and held it high with his massive forearms. He was met with jeers and chiding from his closest friends and a look of disinterest from a lot of the older group. "You guys didn't even let me explain it."

"I for one think it's a great idea," a woman spoke up. She stood up from her chair closest to the massive screen and walked over. "Ten years since the war and all that we've got to preserve the memory of our earliest friends."

Another man spoke up, lean and with a bit of a sneer, but his gaze immediately softened as he looked to the two of them at the front. "We still don't know what this is, Terrence!"

Terrence shifted his gaze to his favorite frenemy. "If you must know Briar, not all of us are into your films and avant garde projects! Some of us care about what happened to the first of us! Like Nerida."

Nerida moved from her standing position to the stage and shut off the films playing behind them. "It's for Shelby. And it's for Layla."

The wave of disagreement slowly dissipated into a reassuring round of concurrence. Most had their opinions and many were willing to keep theirs silent just that once. Ready to listen, more of them came forward, proclaiming their support. "One last question from me," Briar said as he took to the stage. "What do we do after this?"

"Publish it," Terrence said bluntly. "Like you did with your films. Everyone has a right to know different sides of history."

"I'm only doing this if everyone else is okay with this," a blond woman holding two children nodded.

"All in favor?" Terrence asked.

At least five dozen hands raised up initially. By the end of thirty seconds the others raised their hands. All eyes turned to the sole holdout, who finally put his hands to the air as he held a necklace in his hands. "Okay if we're all in agreement I propose we divide into groups. The Hunger games is a long story, but we might as well start with what knowledge we can get from here."

"Some of us have lives to get back to!" An older man griped, clutching the hand of a similarly aged woman.

"This is all voluntary," Nerida said calmly. "But since District 6 is rebuilt and building new and improved transportation services, we can all meet here in 14 if need be. There are enough of us that we all don't need to be here."

"Right," the older woman nodded. "So where do we begin?"

A young man cleared his throat. He was strongly-built, black haired, and more than a little weary. "That burden falls on my family. And we begin with the first."


	2. Remus Valentino

_**Name: Remus Valentino** _

_**Age at Victory: 17** _

**District: 2**

Hunger Games: 01

* * *

"Your family?" a voice from District 13 asked.

"Yes Michelle," Romulon said. He stood up, tall and imposing, and took the main notebook from Terrance. "I wouldn't expect you to know but I'm the last in a long line of victors. Or in this case, survivors."

"No we'll keep the terminology the same," Terrence said. "So what do you know about him?"

"You know that he's the first of the legendary victors we kids in District 2 always learn about," Romulon deadpanned. "He held the kill record unmatched until my victory."

"Sounds like a monster," Nerida shuddered.

"He killed, like we all did," Romulon refuted. "He was just more...determined."

"Well, that determination lasted well after his hunger games," Terrence remarked. "But tell us about your ancestor, Romulon."

* * *

"HOLD THE SENTENCING!" a bold voice echoed through the courtroom. Two hundred heads turned around to see a pink painted woman pushing the doors open.

Capitol, the defendant realized. More importantly, one of those women involved with the Hunger Games. Of course, who else could it be? Why would the capitol care about a random District citizen otherwise?

"Your Honor," the woman started as she walked up to Judge Everett's desk. "We of the capitol motion that you extend this case until Mister Valentino has suitable representation."

"Madame," Everett said coldly. "The capitol has little jurisdiction over here. Shouldn't an esteemed woman like you be more focused on more important and vital prospects like-"

"That's where you're wrong," she said, slamming a brief case onto his desk. "The matters of the Victors is a strong Capitol matter. We are interested in those who represent our nation well. He is as much Capitol as he is District 2. If you do not believe me then look into his eyes."

Judge Everett took a brief look into the teen's eyes, his cold, unflinching eyes, and was soon met with a gunshot between his eyes. "Mister Valentino, your custody has since transferred to the Capitol for further sentencing and acquittal. My name is Fragrance Valiance and I work with the head of the gamemaker's union."

Remus Valentino looked at the woman from his standing position with a hint of nervousness flitting through his pale face. He turned to his family with an unwavering look of determination as they, all of them, nodded, just like they did when he was reaped all that time ago.

"This is highly unorthodox!" the bailiff shouted as he and the notary worriedly shared a glance.

"With all due respect, we are currently undergoing trial for our capitol citizen," Persecutor Valiance started.

Remus stood erect at his position, emboldened and more secure as he felt the cameras rolling. He felt his nervousness well through his veins slowly escape through the bar he was clenching. Valiance looked at him with a look that was ten percent comforting and ninety percent playing to the audience. He knew the capitol was watching. He'd have to be strong for the Capitol again.

"It was previously discussed that Remus Valentino killed fourteen individuals in the Hunger Games," Valiance started. "That is the purpose of the hunger games. To bathe in the blood of the rebellious spawn is but a mere effect of the Hunger Games. The actions of one person in one instance does not necessarily imply the repeated actions of a character."

Remus heard the crowd behind him engage in a low mumble. "Prosecution if you have any refutation now is the time."

The wiry, cruel man seemed to point his lips up in a sneer. His hands labored over the manila folder and he slid it under the projector. "Let the court know that Remus Valentino's fingerprints were found on the so called assailant. The murder weapon was also found to be a knife bought by the father of the accused. Mister Valentino, can you tell us about your relationship with your father?"

Remus closed his eyes. In the brief moment he kept them closed he remembered his father entering the goodbye rooms.

_"What should I do?" Remus asked._

_"You've been asked to do your duty. If you are a true and good Capitol citizen then you will fulfill your duty. ANd that may include dying." His father bit back tears and Remus stiffened. "You have it in you to kill. I know that much. You are my son always but if you kill…"_

_"Is it okay to feel nervous?" Remus worriedly asked._

_"Yes," his father blanched as he pulled him for what was going to be a final hug. "I want you to come home. We all want you back."_

_"I'll make it. I don't want to die but…"_

_The two men exchanged a hug for the last time as his father stepped out the room. "I love you," Remus heard his father say before he stepped out._

"My father is my hero. He mentors me and he clothes me under the watchful eye of the capitol. He's a hardworking and loyal man who has yet to steer me wrong. I live with his morals and I live with a loving family," Remus calmly stated.

"So you are susceptible to your guardians' whims," the prosecutor said. "Let it be known that his father was willing to justify the defendant's murders of the tributes of the first annual hunger games."

"With all due respect," Valiance said, a vein popping out of her head. "They were honorable murders. If his father did anything less than encourage our first victor to kill then it would have been seen as something dishonorable. As Remus here has stated, he tries to live to be an honorable person as the good Capitol law states."

"Yes I killed," Remus spoke up. "When you're in the thick of the action and you want to return home and be a good District 2 citizen any other person is just an obstacle. I know the individuals I may have killed in the Hunger Games were also those who wanted to be their best 1, 7 or 11 citizens they could be. I concede that I was selfish."

"Mister Valentino, that is not the subject at hand," Valiance said. Remus suddenly became more aware of the presence of peacekeepers surrounding the parties in the courtrooms.

The persecutor displayed more evidence that seemed to be refuted at every mention by Valiance. Valiance chipped away at the prosecutor's sneer and Remus glanced at his family. His father seemed to hitch a breath as he looked at his mother.

_"You're alive," his mother gasped as he stepped down from the train station. His three youngest siblings and younger brother looked at him with a look of fear in his eyes._

_Remus ran to hug his mother, trembling and scarred from the arena. His mother could sense that there was something off about him, something that he couldn't quite guess, and Remus knew all too well that his mother no longer looked at him the same way._

_"I missed you mom," he choked._

_"We all missed you. Dad is preparing your residency in Victor's Village. It's hours away from our- i mean your old home."_

_"Mom," Remus choked. "I can't- you can't-"_

_"I know," his mom said._

"One last thing," Valiance mentioned. "We found a partially burned and partially torn note with the seal of the Variate. Would a local family explain what the seal of the Variate represents?"

A voice from the audience spoke up. "It belongs to the Variate clan, theys rich, theys mean too. One of our girls was to marry one of um. Then Valentino kill her."

"Marry one of them. May the notary please bold and underline that? Why would Remus Valentino's killer have a connection to the Variate family?"

The courtroom went silent as a single man stood up in the audience and rushed the stage. In the blink of an eye Remus was back in the arena.

_Remus stood in the structure that was commonly known as the cornucopia, so named after the anthem of Panem. A chill passed over him as his hands lingered over a photo of his family. He held the sword in one hand and slowly stiffened._

_A girl walked up to him._

_"Remus?"_

_Remus turned around with intense and vigorous reactions. The cut was instant. The blade landed in Juno Evans' side. She held a mace in her hands and was poised to attack, but it fell to the ground seconds before she did._

"MISTER VALENTINO!" Remus snapped out of his trance and felt the hard grips of several peacekeepers around him. He looked down to see the bloody face of one Septimus Variate, Juno's fiancé. He looked at his own hands and his clothes. They were torn in what must have been a brief scuffle.

"The court rules that Mister Valentino is innocent, and without a reasonable doubt that one Septimus Variate is responsible for two assassination attempts on the first Victor's life. His punishment shall be a live and public execution this very instant."

The broken heap of the tall, wiry, shattered man known as Septimus was carried to the center of the room. A ring of peacekeepers immediately surrounded him. Behind the ring a makeshift rack was built over what looked to be a drained enclosure. Remus' breath hitched as he looked to his family.

The younger kids- Caerus, Vanessa, Eliza and Bethany, they were all choosing not to look. His mom seemed close to throwing up. His father looked with grim satisfaction. Craig rubbed his wife's swollen belly.

Remus stood still and waited.

Septimus was dragged to the top of the mechanism. A rope was hung from the top. A blade was drawn from one of the peacekeepers. A camera seemed to show up from out of nowhere.

Septimus Variate called for his family, his father, his mother, his grandfathers, he begged for mercy.

The Variates were escorted out.

Septimus screamed as the rope burned his bare skin. He screamed louder when the silver blade danced across his stomach.

It took three hours.

"Even if you did kill a man unwarranted," Fragrance Valiance said as she walked up to Remus. "You are as much a member of the capital as you are of the district. The president wants to make a strong friend out of you. Likewise, I wish to offer my amnesty despite the fact that we live on opposite sides of the mountain range."

Valiance held a hand out for Remus. Remus shook it lightly. "Crushing strength, the sign of a true man," Valiance smiled.

Valiance and her capitol cronies walked out of the courtroom through an empty space in the crowd. Remus waited outside for his family through a separate door.

His father was the only one to come again. "I feel so dirty dad," Remus wept into his father's shoulder again. In that moment, he wasn't a victor, he wasn't a capitol citizen, he wasn't even eighteen. He was just a kid.

"You're alright son," his father mumbled. "You're alright."

* * *

"Remus Valentino, seventeen years old, District Two, fourteen kills," Terrence wrote in his book. The others in the room were abuzz and walking around to the snack tables and making arrangements. He sniffed slightly and turned next to some of the other District one victors.

"Any commentary for our first victor?" he asked the few who were listening to him again.

"Nope," was the overwhelming response, even from Terrence.

"Well, then let's move on."


	3. Duke Kison

**_Name: Duke Kison_ **

**Age at Victory: 18**

**District: 1**

**Hunger Games: 02**

* * *

"Well that was some story," a platinum blond woman said. She looked around the room nervously before cracking her fingers ten times. She impulsively wandered toward a man a few decades older than her and held his hand nervously. "Do we have to stay here Chase?"

"We have some 40 minutes before our next investigation, Rhinestone," Chase, a seventy year old man who looked four decades younger said. "Are you okay?"

"I think so," Rhinestone said. The two of them walked over to a banquet table before Rhinestone turned abruptly. "I want to hear this next one, it's the first victor of District one."

"Of course." Chase took Rhinestone's hand and guided her back to the main amphitheater.

* * *

_Before_

"Do you know why we named you Duke?" his father asked. He sat a bold and strong man who spent his teenage years modelling for some of the best of the capitol. Now he managed a combination gym and library for the future models, future bodybuilders, and adults who desired to make a change.

The older of the Kison twins shook his head. "Why?" Duke asked. He was six years old and already an inquisitive mind. His father liked that in him.

"Because it means something," his father replied boldly. "It means that you belong to power, you belong to strength. Not just of the capitol, but to our family. We're not much in the grand scheme of things, but we're strong together."

Duke nodded his head. "Is that why Prince has his name? And why Dowager has hers?"

"That very much is," his father agreed. "Now, you and Prince and Dowager have to leave for school in 15 minutes. Finish up."

Duke gulped and willed his hands to stop shaking. "Dad, I'm scared."

"Of school? Ah, I don't blame you. It'll be okay. Just live a day at a time. And the first day is always the hardest. You'll make friends and you'll be fine. Now, can you call Prince?"

"Okay," Duke hugged his father tightly.

_After_

Czar Kison stood at the door holding his wife tightly by the shoulder. He wasn't going to admit it, but he was scared, scared of the man his son grew into. He took a deep breath and opened the door. "Duke?" he called out.

"Mom, Dad," his son called out. He walked out of the kitchen, trembling with eyes fleeting and hands that looked clammy. "I didn't think you'd be here early."

"Well since you're hosting Prince and his family, we thought you'd want some extra help. Prince's allergies have really been swelling up," Czar replied.

"Sure, let me show you into the kitchen."

Czar could tell his son was a lot gruffer. He always was a big guy, taller than him at 15 years old, and he made good use of what gym equipment were saved for their bunker. Duke took his parents coats into what looked to be an already worn down closet. In the three years Duke had the house a wall of holes lined the inner walls of the closet.

"What are we having for dinner tonight?" Czar asked.

"Just some pot roast. I thought I'd also make some chicken pot pie and top off dessert with a little bit of ice cream." Czar heard the hiccups in his voice that Duke was trying so hard to deny. He decided not to press things.

The two parents walked into the dining room. They faintly heard Duke shout in frustration followed by the sound of what seemed to be expensive glass cracking. Czar only wanted his son back, he didn't want to live in fear of him.

_Before_

"We're allowed three pieces of luggage each. That means…" Anneal trailed off.

"Then we have to buy bigger luggage right?" Duke asked as he and Prince looked up from their books.

His older sister, Dowager, took the list from their mom's hands. "This family will move to Bunker Forty Nine with the esteemed Yarez, Ruggeiro, Mensa, and Juliard families." She went down the list and pulled out a map of the bunker. Duke and Prince peered over the map with wandering eyes and easily found out where they'd be staying as adolescent males. "Space is limited so each person is only allowed 3 pieces of luggage of a maximum length of 36 inches, width of 20 inches, and a height of 15 inches."

"We're due to leave in 3 days," Anneal said. "Your father has arranged for his gym supplies to be in a safe place. We have it on best authority that our house is not anywhere near routes. Our suburb only has the shopping center." Though her words were calm and collected she seemed to be shaking as her lips seemed to close. "Excuse me."

Duke, ever the dutiful son, wandered after his mom into one of their trophy rooms. They were comfortably living, had a room for each of them if they needed to be on their own. "Mom?"

His mom looked over the photos of her long lost brother, her recently deceased parents, the rest of her family. Her hands traced a giant chest, filled with mementos of a time long ago. She was distantly capitol, and she longed to reclaim the days. "They won't fit," she murmured.

"We'll find a way then." Duke walked behind his mom and hugged her tightly. "There's always going to be a way, right? This will be over, right?"

Anneal turned to her son and reciprocated the hug tightly. "I sure hope so Duke."

_After_

Anneal sits on a chair, beautiful at a distance but incredibly gaudy at close. Fingernail marks and bite marks decorated the chair haphazardly. She stared in the distance, out a window to Duke's rather elegant but unkempt background. Duke was still preparing the little bit of lunch.

"He seems physically healthy at least," Czar mentioned, holding her hand tightly.

Anneal didn't respond.

She could swear she heard a knock at the door. Duke walked out of the kitchen to welcome his twin brother. He greeted Prince and his wife warmly and made a loud fuss about being an uncle or something.

Anneal found a plate hanging on the wall. On the lip there was a signature from someone, someone capitol.

She thought they'd be spared. She thought that they'd acknowledge that her great grandmother was a leading politician in her prime before the borders and the guards went up.

They didn't.

She stared at Prince and his wife as they walked in the room with an empty glare. She barely moved.

_Before_

"I think that's the record," Duke said as he lifted the bar back onto the rack. "A full set of 135 pounds on a thirty five degree angle."

"Not until I get on there and make two reps," Prince cockily replied. He added an extra pound to each side and sat under the bench press. He cockily smirked to one of the Mensa girls and was summarily met with a disdainful eye roll. He heaved a deep breath and pushed.

He barely got the bar level to his chest when he felt his arms give way. Duke leaned over and helped lift the weight off. "Nice one Prince," Maxine Mensa chortled.

"Oh here's the problem," Prince looked over the weights. "Duke lifted 150, not 200. So.."

"I still hold the record dude," Duke said. He playfully punched his brother. Prince pushed him back in return, and the two boys fell to the ground wrestling.

"I'm going to my lessons," Maxine said. She grabbed her sister and went up the stairs of their multi level bunker.

"Umm," a small voice asked. The two boys looked up to see twelve year old Nikolai Juliard with his hands curled. He was only 4 years younger than they were and they wouldn't have been friends before this bunker, but you had to make do with socialization. "Can you two help me with the squat on the bar?"

"Sure," Prince got up from the mat. He arranged Nick in front of the squat rat and adjusted the bar. "How many are you going for this time?"

"Five."

"That's a nice amount, try to do five two times in a row."

"So ten times?"

"Ten times," Duke said as he stood up from the mat. "But take a break between 5 and 6."

The two older boys watched as Prince made it through eight of the ten reps with ease but once his knees buckled the two brothers were there to help. "I could only do five before," Nick scratched his head.

"It took me a long while before I could even squat a plate," Prince comforted.

"Yeah, and you still can't meet me with my three plates," Duke snarked. The two pushed each other as Nick awkwardly left the situation. "Hey, it's about time for class, let's go."

_After_

Prince and Maxine waited at the door. Prince gripped his wife's hand tightly and shielded her stomach once they felt the air conditioned breeze come from inside. "Duke," Prince said warmly. "Looks like you've been working out."

"It's only been a week since our last dinner. And you still owe me for that plate."

"That plate costs more than one of our bedrooms!"

"Not my fault you're still a clumsy doofus. You should know better, working in the gym and all." The two laughed and Prince walked inside. Of hsi family he was sure he still had the closest relationship with Duke. The twin bond didn't go away after he killed people, Prince figured.

"Hi Maxine," Duke added, seemingly distracted. Prince sense the coldness in the air suddenly appear. "Let's get you inside. Dinner isn't going to be for much longer."

Prince walked inside to see that Duke's wall was lined with new photos, seven of which were paintings that framed all of his kills. A chill ran through his shoulder and up Maxine's spine before they found themselves at the table. "Duke seems like he's doing well," Maxine commented.

Prince looked around the room. It was almost as big as their old house, and undoubtedly had a lot more room for his family should he want to grow it. "Is Dowager joining us?" his mother asked.

"We'll have to see," Prince said. Another chill ran through his spine. Maxine didn't even feel it.

_Before_

Dowager walked into her new home with her family. It was a miracle that their father's storage hold was untouched by the bombs. Their home was three bedrooms and only one bathroom. It wasn't what they were used to living in. Before Dowager could split off from the rest of her family her mom let out a scream.

She looked at her mom and the capitol official who just left. Her mom fell to the floor and curled up in a ball. Her dad rushed over to his kids and herded them out of their mom's sight. "We learned that your uncle Shimmer and your aunt Sparkle were likely involved in rebellious malcontents. They were executed summarily."

"What?!" Dowager cried out. "That can't be true!"

"Dowager please, the capitol was merciful enough-"

"That's not true at all! If they were merciful then-"

"DOWAGER KISON I WILL NOT HAVE YOUR MOTHER HEAR ANY MORE OF THIS UNREST!" Czar motioned for Duke and Prince to head to their shared room. "DOWAGER KISON WE ARE DISTRICT ONE CITIZENS AND WE MUST ADHERE TO THE CAPITOL! WE ARE NOT REBELS FROM DISTRICT THIRTEEN!"

Dowager's chest suddenly matched the heat of the sun as she gulped heavily. Looking at her father one last time, she ran to her room, shoved clothes into a bag, grabbed her meager savings, and left.

_After_

Dowager heard her family walk through the door one by one. Duke was...Duke was...Duke was gracious enough to forgive her. Yes. Her brother forgave her.

The capitol forgave her.

Duke shouted down below. Dowager didn't know much but Duke seemed somewhat more angry. Never at her. Never at her.

Some 15 minutes later Duke came to bring down Dowager. She hated stairs and always stumbled. Dowager held onto her tall and strong and broken brother. "Mom and Dad are here. You remember them right?" Duke asked.

Dowager blinked. She opened her mouth and nodded. She can't speak anymore, her tongue is gone, but she can still understand. Her brother guided her to a seat. Mom seemed quiet. Dad seemed tense. The food seemed good though. She had enough of it to feel not hungry.

_Before_

The Kisons sat at a Dinner table. Czar 38, Anneal 36, Dowager 10, Duke and Prince eight. THey sat around the table eating Duke's favorite, Tuna Casserole, and Prince's favorite, Lasagna. Czar told a story about how he placed third to a boy from the Capitol and a boy who worked down in the factories. Czar mentioned the only reason he won was because he split his pants. They all laughed.

_After_

The Kisons sat during dinner. Duke brought out his new favorite, a chuck steak pot roast, and sliced it for all of his family. He looked to his father, his mother, Prince, Maxine, and Dowager. He willed for conversation to start.

The main course, nothing was said.

Dessert, just as silent.

The drinks thereafter, almost nothing.

"SAY SOMETHING DAMMIT!" Duke cried in the kitchen, hours after his family all left and Dowager was well asleep.

The dishes shook, but remained silent.

* * *

"Duke Kison, seventeen years old, seven kills by the official tally, District one," Terrence wrote down in as neat a hand writing he could manage. "Imposing victor."

"Tallest for a while," Shimmer added. "I can trace some of my ancestry to him but I don't know the exact details."

"He was pretty popular too," Cody mentioned. "They still used his face as one of the best District One victors."

"Because he was the first," Shimmer continued. "Prestige was definitely more popular than him and I can think of at least 2 more victors."

"Is District one a popularity contest?" wondered Terrence.

"So let's move on." Terrence voiced.


	4. Paisley Harper

**_Name: Paisley Harper_ **

**_Age at Victory: 16_ **

**District: 8**

Hunger Games: 03

* * *

“District 2 has a very mixed opinion on Paisley,” Romulon stated.

“For the first female victor you’d think she’d be a little more loved,” Levi mused. “In our District she was a better victor because she really made kills when necessary. That and being the first for our District.”

“Wait,” Rhinestone asked. “I thought Nina Chestford was the first female victor. My dad…” she trailed off. 

Chase held her hand tightly as she mustered the courage to speak. “In District 1 and a fair amount of settlements in District 2 they consider Nina to be the first true female victor.”

“But history doesn’t lie, Paisley Harper was the first female victor. And she was from District 8,” Terrence said definitively.

* * *

“The Beignets are done!” Lettie calls upstairs. There’s no response from Paisley but we hear our younger daughters run down the stairs clamoring for the new honey from Paisley’s kitchen. Lettie wraps the apron around her waist as she picks up the frying pan full of the breakfast dessert. Lettie and I share a glance as she sets the food down.

“Marissa don’t eat with your hands, we have silverware now.” She looks at me and nods before she uses some tongs to grab waffles. “Paisley your sisters are eating your waffles!”

No response.

“Momma,” Jenevive speaks up. “For school we have to ask what our parents do for work. WHat do you do for work?”

“Right now,” I speak in between bites of my omelette. “I’m taking care of your sister. AFter that I go back to the laundromat.”

“But isn’t Paisley an adult? Why can’t you go back sooner?” Jenevive looks up from her plate.

“Sometimes adults need help too,” Lettie says, a little more forcefully than she intended. “Sorry Genie but asking why someone needs help is kind of rude.”

“Okay,” Jenevive goes back to her breakfast. 

It’s a quiet breakfast since neither Harriet nor Cleo have decided to join us today. “Calico, Genie, Marissa,” Lettie calls out. “I’m taking the three of you to school today. We’re going to walk because we are not going to inconvenience the..nice peacekeepers again today, does that work?” 

“Yes mummy,” the three of them say. “Will Paisley pick us up?”

“Maybe later today,” Lettie tells them. “Now go get dressed.” The three of them scamper off. “Ari let’s go out today.”

“The doctor did say that Paisley needed at least one day out in the week,” I muse. “Or were you just talking about just a day with us?”

“Our daughter needs to see what fun is going on in District 8 ever since she came out of the arena,” Lettie says adamantly. “I was thinking just a quick romp through the main town. Take her to the new cafe. Buy her a stuffed animal.”

  
  


“She’s turning seventeen in a month. She doesn’t like stuffed animals.”

“Maybe she’ll like the nice cashier at the stand. Gregoria, Franci’s mom, says he’s single and just about ready to settle down. With a girl.” I raise my eyebrow as I take a sip of my coffee. “Ari the girl needs socialization with people her own age. WE’re getting old and she’s the oldest child in our house.”

“Technically she owns this house.”

“Do you want to have a mommies and daughter day or not?”

“Of course! I don’t think we should rush things with Paisley. She’ll get better on her own.”

“I think she just needs a little push you know?”

“I know.” I kiss her on the cheek just as the kids walk down the stairs with backpacks in tow. “I’ll see you in an hour then. Oh, pick up some cheese from the market? Don't forget your ID.”

“See you later Ari.” Letti herds the kids out the door, ready for the school day to begin. I pick up the dishes the others leave behind with my mind not really thinking about anything. Once the dishwasher begins I hear Paisley finally coming down the stairs. She smiles sadly and sits at the table, prodding at the beignets with little energy.

“Did you have a nice night Paisley?” I ask gently. 

“No,” she says, still focused on her food. “Dylan was in my dreams again.”

“Sorry to hear. Do you want something to drink? Some orange juice or pomegranate?” Paisley doesn’t respond. I put a cup of hot water on her placemat. “Mom and I are going out for a day on the town today. Do you want to join us?”

There’s no response. “I’m not hearing a no.”

“I guess,” Paisley says. She grabs the remaining five beignets and sits in front of the television. It’s something new that we have to get accustomed to, and it’s a big risk.

She sits in front of the television, watching a replay of her Hunger Games. She manages to get through the bloodbath before she changes the channel to a livestream of the school. She’s not allowed to attend school due to her being a victor, supposedly to live a life of luxury, but as it’s been so far, Paisley really isn’t living. “There is a new restaurant opening up where we used to live. Do you want to see that?”

I see her nod from the living room. She hasn’t been as talkative as she used to. “I’m going to get ready then,” she says rather tiredly.

Again she walks back up to her room, dragging her feet with her head hung low, the hammer bulging out of her pockets. I know my daughter and I know that she is never anywhere without a hammer. Letti and I once joked about her starting up a carpentry business. Only once. I’m grateful my daughter is back above all else but it’s clear that she’s half the woman she used to be.

By the time the dishwasher is over Letti has arrived. She’s already dressed for a day on the town but grabs her purse to complete the ensemble. “How long has the water been running? Paisley’s been showering for a while hasn’t she?’

“I guess, but she’s going out today for the first time in a while, a victory is a victory, especially for our little winner.” A twinge of pride still appears in my voice despite the fact that I know Paisley doesn’t like referring to her victory. She waits at the base of the stairs while I go up and change into a slim fitting ensemble for the night on the town. Paisley finishes up in her bathroom so I join Letti down at the stairs. 

Paisley steps down in jeans, modest blouse, and green purse. She’s always been a modest person, not like Letti and I, a fact made all too apparent when Paisley blushes as she sees Letti and I dressed up. “Could you be any more revealing?” she asks, a hint of her exasperated old personality resurging. 

“WE could but we thought this would be embarrassing enough,” LEtti fires back, earning an exasperated ‘MOM’ in retaliation. Paisley opens the door to a rather grey day in District 8. We walk down the colorful but empty cul de sac of houses that make up District 8’s victor village to the main car park, where an armed guard opens a door for us and assigns us to a car. 

“Where are we going?” Paisley asks all of a sudden.

“We’re going downtown to see the new restaurants,” Letti explains, gingerly as she could. “Your mom said that there’s been a bit of economic boom lately. Because of you.”

“Because of me?” Paisley looks out the window, just as the temperature in our car drops a couple of degrees.

I hit Letti in the elbow. She takes the hint to spend the rest of the car ride in silence. “What momma wanted to say was that PArcel day gave the district more energy to spend on pursuing their own goals rather than worry about tesserae. We can visit that toy store we always stopped by with Harriet and Cleo.”

She shrugs. 

The driver stops us at the newly developed restaurant row. A line of five restaurants has been arranged. Before Paisley came home they called this place Street Food Slum. There are still lines of beggars on the streets but they seem better bundled up from the past two years. Paisley turns her head at the bakery, an old favorite, but it definitely smells a lot cleaner. Letti and I follow her to see that she already has her hand on her purse.

“Is there something you like?” Letti asks gingerly.

“They have beignets here?” 

“It’s something new ever since the victor mentioned it in the capitol,” the clerk behind the counter sneers. “Ten dollars for four.”

“I’ll take six.” Paisley slams her purse on the counter and pulls out a wad of bills. While the baker counts out six she counts out fifteen dollars. We’re about to leave with the beignets in hand when three women turn their noses at us, snorting.

“Come on Paisley, there’s more restaurants here to look out for,” I try to encourage. I turn around to see Paisley storming up to the women, hammer in hand. “Oh no.”

Letti and I walk up to the women, seeing Paisley with an almost murderous glare. “You were the owners who kicked us out!”

“Peacekeeper!” one of the women calls before standing up. Paisley slams her hammer on the table and the woman screams. There’s three peacekeepers immediately at our side and an all too familiar face among them. “Peacekeeper this lunatic here--”

“Paisley Harper,” the familiar face mentions. “I thought I kicked out your parents when they couldn’t make rent.”

“Then you admit you haven’t been paying attention,” Paisley angrily says. “We have a new home now. Do the peacekeeper captains know that you’ve been bribing these old biddies to make up fake eviction notices? Do you?”

Two of the peacekeeepers turn to each other, escorting the ladies out of the bakery while the third talks to the familiar face. “Her parents, those two women right behind her, made my school life a living hell and they’re teaching their daughter the exact same thing!”

“Bug off Paulson,” I snort, crossing my arms. “We’ve given you wedgies before and we can do it again.”

“She’s threatening me now! Arrest her and send her to the stocks!”

“Ma’am, this man accused my parents of hanging my sisters out to dry after bath. He accused my parents of stealing money from the laundry machines when we don’t even use those stupid machines! He’s ruining my day!”

The peacekeeper looks at me, looks at Letti, looks at Paulson, and looks at Paisley. She looks again at Paisley. She’s twirling her hammer in her hands. The peacekeeper pulls out a radio. “Let’s start an investigation. Paulson Greene’s property, commonly known as Runoff Apartments. Paulson Greene is under arrest and custody for harassing victor Paisley Harper and her family.”

Paulson’s face drops in disbelief.. Paisley too drops her hammer over Paulson’s foot. “At least arrest her for assaulting me!” 

“That was an accident,” I say. “Paisley just dropped it.”

The peacekeeper drags Paulson out of the bakery kicking and screaming. Paisley walks to the counter and drops off a wad of ten dollar bills to pay for the table. We walk out, beignets in hand. “We still have a couple of hours before your sisters come home from school. Where do you want to go?” I rub Paisley’s shoulders to relieve them of their stiffness and Paisley looks around. “I miss days like this. You should come out with me and your mother more often Paisley.”

Paisley sees some footage of her on the television and winces. She looks at us and her face seems to relax. “Can we go to that drink shop? Do they still serve the coffee that I like? I want to find out.”

“Of course Paisley,” Letti smiles. The intensity Paisley had in that altercation is gone, I hope it’s gone for now.

“Did you mention her legacy?” Ryan asked. “The only thing that story about Paisley told us was that in the first 6 months she was kind of unstable.”

* * *

The other victors looked at each other with rather placid looks. Chase looked at his phone when he got a message from another victor. He beckoned to Rhinestone and the two left the building, exchanging platitudes and departure messages. 

“Her legacy ties into victors later. And to District 2 if I’m not mistaken,” Terrence looked at Romulus, Apex, and Nyx, who nodded. “And once we get definitive answers regarding the blood lineage--” He looked to Cody, who was still on his micro computer, “We’ll know if it ties into the lower Districts.”

“She seemed rather mellow,” Kama, another victor from District 3 mentioned meekly before retreating back into her hoodie. 

“By all means she seemed to be. Patience of a saint with a hammer and sickle.” Kelly snarked. The others looked around. “WEll, time for a break I guess. I can’t stay for long because I have another pitch to go to. They’re airing this on--”

“Got it hot shot,” Briar interrupted. “Next victor, right?”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second accompanying piece of the In Their Words series. The main difference is that District 13 was not bombed to oblivion. This takes place during a watching of "In Their Words" during a semi annual reunion of the surviving victors but will take place in different times.


End file.
